


What Can I Do?

by aceonthebass



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-07
Updated: 2011-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceonthebass/pseuds/aceonthebass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul's having trouble looking at John. (Set during "Baby's in Black" at Shea Stadium.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Can I Do?

Paul can’t look John in the eye during "Baby’s in Black." He’s just too fucking terrified. It’s not stage fright or fear of the crowds (it’s crazy, absolutely insane, but there’s just no way he can even conceive of however many thousands of people are there, and anyway, no one can hear a goddamn thing they’re playing).

No, what scares Paul is what John might do. Has done before, in fact, onstage in front of a crowd, but that was Hamburg, and no one knew who they were. This isn’t just some gig, this is half of New York they’re performing in front of, and if John could only just barely resist the urge to tell the Queen Mum and co. to “rattle your fucking jewelry,” then how much stronger must this temptation be?

Right here, on this stage, John Lennon has it in his power to give their fans, America, and possibly the entire world the biggest “fuck off” that Paul can imagine. The schoolboy rebel in John must be dying to do it, to just grab him by his jacket collar and . . .

But it’d end them. Paul knows it, and he knows that John does, too. It’s one thing to have the occasional person on the inside suspect something, but it’s another to confirm it on an international scale. The Beatles have kicked and screamed and fucking stabbed people in the back to get here, and Paul knows that John isn’t about to throw it away, not for a momentary gesture of . . . whatever. Anyway, when it comes to things like this, John can usually be counted on to lose his nerve at the last minute.

But this isn’t anything usual. They’re completely out of their minds, all of them, first on pot (of course), and then maybe a shot for nerves, and finally on the sheer massive adrenaline of the thing. They’re high, maybe the highest they’ve ever been, and John even more than the rest of them.

So Paul can’t look into his eyes. As they lean in together at the mike, he can feel the heat pouring off of John, can feel them moving together to the rhythm of the song, can see the sweat shining on John’s face, can feel a fleck of John’s spit land on his lip, and sense John’s eyes on him expectantly—but he can’t do it, can’t look him in the eye. It would be too much, the last straw. It’s the only thing keeping them from crashing into each other at high speed and with disastrous consequences. A flimsy wall trembling to hold back an unstoppable flood. He does anything he can think of, blinks, glances out into the field, anything to avoid his eyes. But the guitar solo comes in just in time, and Paul spins away from the mike in their usual parody of a waltz around the stage.

But when they lean back in for the bridge, Paul discovers to his horror that he is the one leaning too far forward, thrusting his mouth up to the mike, christ, just one more inch and it’s all over, and how great would it be, and fuck, no one’s ever done anything like this, and in his moment of panic, he finally meets John’s gaze. John knows. John knows exactly what he’s thinking, what he’s scared of, and tells him all of this with the smirking curve of his mouth and his half-lidded eyes. And Paul sees that John is glorying in it, in the unstable high of the moment; they’re teetering right on the edge, and Paul discovers that, lost in the song and each other, they are able to make the moment stretch on and on. In some strange, lucid corner of his mind, he thinks that they’ll always be here, mouths (almost) pressed together, screaming out at the world that’s screaming for them.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to livejournal as scarlett_bat


End file.
